<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>all hail the underdogs by lunasenzanotte</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27581767">all hail the underdogs</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunasenzanotte/pseuds/lunasenzanotte'>lunasenzanotte</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tennis RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Blood and Violence, Friendship, Heavy Angst, Hunger Games, Hunger Games-Typical Death/Violence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Psychological Trauma, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:16:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,879</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27581767</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunasenzanotte/pseuds/lunasenzanotte</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Not to get attached was the only way to stay sane, because year after year after year, he’d watch them die in the arena, and then he’d return home alone. </p><p>And now there’s Denis, with his eager eyes and disarming smile, drinking his every word, and Vasek doesn’t know how to handle it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Félix Auger-Aliassime/Denis Shapovalov, Vasek Pospisil/Denis Shapovalov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>all hail the underdogs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This started as a small mention in <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26201935">if I had a heart</a>, and ended up longer than the original fic. </p><p>You absolutely don't have to read that one, though, they don't have anything in common.</p><p>Title is from "Renegades" by X Ambassadors, which was the song I somehow associated with this fic.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Vasek doesn’t watch the Reaping. He never does, ever since he was the one whose name was called, exactly ten years ago. He still remembers the feeling of absolute dread, the way his body went completely numb. That’s all he remembers. He knows that at one point, his family was there to say goodbye to him, but he doesn’t remember what he said to them, or what they said to him. Then he was on the train with the Capitol escort and the female tribute from his district, whose name and face he’s finally managed to forget after years of trying. He had no mentor, simply because his district never had a victor.</p><p class="p1">Never before him, and never after him. And there’s no reason why this year should be different.</p><p class="p1">Once the train departs, he goes to the dining car where an opulent table is already prepared for him and the tributes. He exchanges a few polite sentences with their escort, and then talks to Genie, the female tribute, daughter of the owner of one of their district’s bakeries. The girl is terrified, but also strangely determined, which means she’s not a lost cause.She’s also quite easy on the eye, with the typical good looks of the merchant quarter - blonde hair, flawless skin, and a natural, charming smile. With a bit of help from the stylists, she’s bound to catch the eye of some sponsors, and Vasek decides to make this the strong point of their strategy.</p><p class="p1">When she finally leaves for her compartment, she looks much calmer.</p><p class="p1">Vasek pours himself a cup of coffee and waits.</p><p class="p1">And waits.</p><p class="p1">When they’re long past the border of their district, he gets up and heads towards the tail of the train.</p><p class="p1">He finds the boy in the last wagon, which has the biggest windows. He’s playing with a wooden pendant on a leather cord, looking at the landscape behind the windows, which shows nothing interesting.</p><p class="p1">“You don’t want to talk?” Vasek asks, sitting on the bench next to him.</p><p class="p1">The boy - Denis - doesn’t even look at him. “What about?”</p><p class="p1">“I don’t know… strategy, maybe?”</p><p class="p1">Denis shrugs, wrapping the leather cord of the necklace around his hand and then unwrapping it again. It takes exactly one minute for Vasek to snatch it from him and tuck it in his pocket, because if this continues, he might as well strangle the kid with it.</p><p class="p1">“If I’m to mentor you, I need to know something about you,” he says. “So far I barely know your name. I don’t even know where you live.”</p><p class="p1">“The mill,” Denis says.</p><p class="p1"><em>Wonderful.</em> So he has one tribute from the bakery, and another from the mill. Not that District Nine’s tributes ever live long, but those from the farms sometimes at least make it out of the bloodbath because they can pick up something and use it as a weapon.</p><p class="p1">“Fine. Strong points?”</p><p class="p1">“None.”</p><p class="p1">Vasek sighs. Being the sole victor of their district is tough. Even more so when everyone knows he won by sheer luck when most of the tributes kind of forgot about him. Tributes from District Nine don’t win the Games, it’s a fact. Everyone knows that. Especially District Nine knows that. This boy has already dug his own grave in his mind, like many before him. Vasek is used to it.</p><p class="p1">But for some reason, now it makes him mad.</p><p class="p1">“Fine, then I have a perfect strategy for you,” he snaps. “Jump off the platform before the countdown ends. Problem solved. You’ll certainly go down in our district’s history. As the one who didn’t even try.”</p><p class="p1">The kid gives him an unimpressed look, like being torn into pieces by a landmine is actually a considerable option for him.</p><p class="p1">“The district doesn’t give a damn.”</p><p class="p1">Vasek has to give him a point here. Their district truly doesn’t give a damn. Even when Vasek won, unexpectedly, as the only one in the whole history of the Games, they weren’t crazy about it. The Mayor shook his hand and gave him an obligatory medal, shoved the keys to the house in the Victors’ Village in his hand, and that was just about it.</p><p class="p1">For District Nine, the Games mean saying goodbye to two of its children who will never come back. They prefer not to speak about it, and forget about it as quickly as possible, until the next Reaping Day.</p><p class="p1">“The odds are twenty-three to one that I’ll die,” Denis says. “It can’t be worse than it is now.”</p><p class="p1">Vasek doesn’t like what he’s saying, but at least he’s starting to be more eloquent.</p><p class="p1">“Is that what you think?” he asks and gets up, suddenly unable to sit still. “You enter the arena, you die quickly and painlessly, and that’s it? That’s not how it works, boy.”</p><p class="p1">He completes a full circle around the wagon before speaking again.</p><p class="p1">“You want a good death? You have to earn it. Believe it or not, but there are things to fight for in the arena, even if you don’t win.”</p><p class="p1">Denis laughs humorlessly. “Like what? If I’m dead, I’m dead.”</p><p class="p1">“But what happens before you die, that’s what matters. Your dignity,” Vasek says and crouches in front of him. “If you don’t care, then fine. Let the Careers hunt you down for fun. Let them make you starve. Let your mother watch them kill you like a dog.”</p><p class="p1">The boy buries his face in his hands, like he can hide from it all like that, and lets out a desperate sob. It takes a while for him to look up again. And that’s the moment Vasek knows will determine everything. He’s finally cracked the shell open, and now he just needs to wait for what will come out.</p><p class="p1">“How to kill someone, I would know that,” Denis says slowly. “But how do I make sure they won’t kill me until I can kill them?”</p><p class="p1">Vasek cracks a smile.</p><p class="p1">“And that is what we need to figure out.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">~ ~ ~</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He watches the Reaping after all, in the lonely darkness of his compartment. It fills him with dread almost like he’s standing there in the crowd himself, like his name is still in the bowl. But something is telling him that he needs to see it, needs to know what he’s got on his hands this time.</p><p class="p1">The escort calls Genie’s name first, and Vasek watches the camera circle around the group of girls surrounding her. They all look the same to him, blonde hair in neat plaits, pretty dresses that tell him they all come from the better part of the district. Genie walks to the stage slowly, pale, but still composed. No scene, no tears.</p><p class="p1">Then it’s Denis’ turn. When the camera finds him, his eyes are wide, like he’s just woken up from a nightmare. Only that the nightmare has just begun. Before he steps out of the crowd, he looks around like he’s desperately looking for something or someone. But there’s nothing to look for. District Nine doesn’t get volunteers, ever.</p><p class="p1">Just when Vasek is about to switch the tape off, something catches his eye, and he rewinds it quickly. He looks at the boy standing next to Denis, and unwittingly leans closer to the screen. And then he sees it. The necklace Denis keeps playing with. Hanging around that boy’s neck.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">~ ~ ~</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When they arrive at the Capitol, Vasek happily hands his tributes over to the stylists, and goes to find himself a quiet place to wait until the parade. When he thinks about it, his ways haven’t changed since he was a tribute himself. He’s from one of the forgotten districts, and sometimes he thinks that it’s actually an advantage.</p><p class="p1">He doesn’t really give Denis and Genie any instructions for the parade. In his opinion, the parade doesn’t determine anything. It can barely sway some sponsors, and since District Nine generally doesn’t get sponsors, there’s no need to wreck his brain over it.</p><p class="p1">Besides that, it seems like this is the part where Genie and Denis don’t need to do anything more than just be themselves. The way they look around in genuine awe is actually safer than letting them play any games, and when Genie lifts her hand and gives the crowd a shy wave, Vasek nods to himself with a smile. They interact with each other, talk to each other, with Denis pointing something out to her in the crowd and her laughing.</p><p class="p1">Vasek has to give it to the stylists, this year, the costumes aren’t even that outrageous and hideous as before. They truly stuck to the theme, with the simple white shirts and rye wreaths, the only Capitol thing being the golden glitter randomly splattered on their skin.</p><p class="p1">He waits for them backstage, smiling and nodding approvingly. Genie’s smile almost disappears once she gets off the carriage, suggesting that a part of it was definitely an act, and she almost gratefully follows the escort to the elevators which can take them to their apartments.</p><p class="p1">Denis lingers for a while. He takes off the rye wreath and runs a hand through his hair.</p><p class="p1">“I just… wanted to say that I’m sorry,” he says quietly.</p><p class="p1">“Sorry for what?” Vasek asks.</p><p class="p1">“Just… you know… being… generally disappointing.”</p><p class="p1">Vasek frowns. “Generally disappointing?” he repeats. “What does that even mean?”</p><p class="p1">“That I… wish I were a better tribute, maybe?” Denis shrugs. “Like… not for them. For you. Because you’re… you’d deserve it.”</p><p class="p1">Vasek takes a breath, but he doesn’t know what to say to that.</p><p class="p1">Denis wipes off a bit of the glitter with his fingers, and smears it over Vasek’s cheek. Then he gives him a small smile and brushes past him.</p><p class="p1">And Vasek feels something inside of him crack, and it scares him more than he was scared that day on the square in District Nine, ten years ago.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">~ ~ ~</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Ten years ago, when he came back from the first training session, he closed himself in his room and cried. Compared to all the career tributes who could use pretty much every weapon available, his knowledge of nature and ability to tie knots suddenly seemed useless and ridiculous. And not having a mentor, he didn’t even have anyone to figure out a strategy for him. He figured one out himself - keep as far away from everyone as possible, for as long as possible.</p><p class="p1">Denis and Genie look way more composed when they come back, and Vasek almost sighs with relief. He’s bad at consoling people. How do you want to tell someone that they won’t die, when you don’t believe it yourself?</p><p class="p1">“Now that you’ve seen the other tributes… what’s your opinion on an alliance?” he asks and looks at them.</p><p class="p1">They exchange looks.</p><p class="p1">“So far, I feel like the only alliance we could have is with each other,” Genie says. “The rest of them just kind of… ignore us.”</p><p class="p1">“And something in me wants to say ‘luckily’,” Denis adds.</p><p class="p1">Vasek sighs. Truth is that this year’s field is a tough nut to crack. Not just the quartet of Careers from One and Two. So far, he can’t really write anyone off.</p><p class="p1">“But would this alliance be a wise thing?” Denis asks then. “I mean… if we split, then maybe… our district will have a fairer chance.”</p><p class="p1">Vasek frowns. “Why?”</p><p class="p1">“Because they won’t get us both at the same time,” Genie explains calmly, looking at Denis for approval.</p><p class="p1">Vasek bangs his fist on the table, making the ridiculously ornate Capitol dishes jump and clink. “Would you two finally stop?”</p><p class="p1">“Okay, and even then,” Denis says, completely ignoring him. “We’d have to betray each other sooner or later, and… that’s probably not the way we’d want people back home to remember us.”</p><p class="p1">Vasek sighs. “Anyone who knows what the Games are about will understand,” he says. “When you’re in an alliance, you think mainly about yourself. You work with other people, you work together against others, you have a common goal, but it’s really just about you.”</p><p class="p1">“And when you’re a mentor, you have to pick one tribute,” Denis says. “The one that you simply… put more effort into trying to save. It’s like that. Everyone says so. There has to be one you’ll eventually pick.”</p><p class="p1">Vasek looks at him and frowns. “What’s your point?”</p><p class="p1">“Pick Genie,” Denis says quietly and gets up. “That’s my point.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">~ ~ ~</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Vasek opens the small door leading to the roof. The warm night air hits him in the face. He’s always hated it, the way it didn’t smell like home. There wasn’t the smell of sun and rain, and the earthy scent of soil, and the rich, sweet aroma of ripe crops. The Capitol air was just cold stone and artificial perfumes, with a hint of smoke and burnt fuel from the hovercrafts.</p><p class="p1">“Can I?” he asks, standing at the door awkwardly.</p><p class="p1">“Well, I don’t own this roof,” Denis shrugs, wrapping the cord of the necklace around his hand. </p><p class="p1">Vasek sits next to him, keeping a safe distance. For a while, they just look at the panorama in silence. </p><p class="p1">“Can I ask you something?” Denis asks then.</p><p class="p1">“You can,” Vasek says without looking at him. “I can’t guarantee that I’ll answer, though.”</p><p class="p1">When Denis lays the pendant on the ground and lifts his head to look at him, Vasek feels like the air around him has suddenly thickened to the point of it being unbreathable. It is as though his eyes are Death's own eyes, so dark and dull to the point where it is unsettling, and yet there is sadness spiraling around the irises, as though he already knows when to schedule his funeral.</p><p class="p1">“Do I have any chance to win?”</p><p class="p1">Vasek stays still for a moment, like he needs to process his question, or rather figure out his reaction to it. “What do you want me to say?” he asks then quietly, eyes returning to the random point on the horizon.</p><p class="p1">“The truth.”</p><p class="p1">“No, you don’t,” he says in a strangely detached tone of voice. “In the arena, maybe. But it doesn’t end there. This is their game. We can play well, but it’s still their game we play, their rules. There’s no chance of us winning it.”</p><p class="p1">“Why do we play it, then?” </p><p class="p1">Vasek smiles bitterly. “I don’t know why you play. I played because when they called my name, I realized that all my life, someone else made decisions for me. But if I had to die, I wanted it to happen the way I wanted it to happen. I wanted to be my own judge and executioner. And when the time would come, I’d be ready. Unless I won the Games, I wouldn’t get to make that decision.”</p><p class="p1">“No one's ever truly ready for death,” Denis says.</p><p class="p1">“What else do you want to be ready for if not your own death? If you plan it, of course.” He crosses his legs and picks on the loose threads of his pants. “Why do <em>you</em> play, Denis?”</p><p class="p1">“Because you were right,” Denis shrugs. “Because it makes a difference. Because I have the opportunity to change something. Maybe not much, but something. I can show them that I’m not afraid of them, the Capitol. That <em>we</em> are not afraid. And that they can get us, alive or dead, but we’ve made an impact on the people. They’ll talk about us. And even if we die… don’t we win that game?”</p><p class="p1">Vasek smiles somewhat indulgently. “It’s a bunch of romantic bullshit, but it’s somehow true.”</p><p class="p1">Denis looks at him with certain surprise. “I guess that’s a compliment from you?”</p><p class="p1">Vasek shrugs, and when he speaks again, his voice doesn’t sound as patronizing as it did before. “You are right about one thing. No matter how well we play and fight, we’ll lose the game anyway. But it’s better than giving up.”</p><p class="p1">“Why am I not right about the other things as well?”</p><p class="p1">“Because we will only change as much as they let us change. How much they decide to tell the people, and what they tell them, it’s all up to them. We can do something, but how many people will know the truth? So much of this country is a lie, you can’t even imagine. This country is built on lies. And if you are not afraid of the Capitol, Denis, I’m impressed. I myself am very afraid of them.”</p><p class="p1">“Afraid of what they could do to you?”</p><p class="p1">“Of what they could do to us all,” Vasek says and leans back on his elbows. “After all, you are here because people once wanted to change something.”</p><p class="p1">“Then I should at least make an effort, right? To honor that.”</p><p class="p1">Vasek glances at him in confusion when Denis shuffles closer to him, until their shoulders are almost touching.</p><p class="p1">“May I ask something else, as this is an honesty hour?” Denis asks.</p><p class="p1">“What?”</p><p class="p1">“Were you afraid? When you were in the Games?”</p><p class="p1">Vasek doesn’t answer immediately. He watches a hovercraft pass in the distance, its red light blinking at a steady pace. “Yes,” he says then. “And no.”</p><p class="p1">“How come?”</p><p class="p1">“As you once said, the chance is twenty-three to one that you will die. The chance that you’ll win is so small that you kind of don’t take it into consideration at all. So you do everything knowing that you will die. And that makes it easier.”</p><p class="p1">“I was thinking about you last night, you know,” Denis says. “That… I don’t remember you. The year you were in the Games. I reached for the remote and I opened the archive… and then I realized that I didn’t really… want to know.”</p><p class="p1">Vasek stays silent. He realizes that this is the most he’s ever talked to any of his tributes. He’s never formed a bond with any of them. He chose not to. Not to get attached was the only way to stay sane, because year after year after year, he’d watch them die in the arena, and then he’d return home alone.</p><p class="p1">Truth to be told, the tributes rarely sought his company. They were usually resigned to their fate, or intimidated by his coldness.</p><p class="p1">And now there’s Denis, with his eager eyes and disarming smile, drinking his every word, and Vasek doesn’t know how to handle it.</p><p class="p1">“There’s not much to know anyway,” he says then. “I didn’t do much. Held on long enough, that was pretty much about it.”</p><p class="p1">“Sounds like a good strategy,” Denis smiles.</p><p class="p1">They spend the next hour looking at the night sky in silence.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">~ ~ ~</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The night of the interviews, Vasek briefly looks at Genie, dressed in a golden dress, shining like a new coin, and he knows that he can’t do more for her than what the stylists have already done. As much as he hates it. As much as he hates himself for it.</p><p class="p1">When he opens the door to Denis’ room, the stylists are just leaving. Denis looks at him and spreads his arms, looking at the golden vest in disgust. It seems like gold is in fashion this year in the Capitol.</p><p class="p1">“Say it,” Denis sighs. “I look ridiculous.”</p><p class="p1">Vasek laughs. “Not at all,” he says. “You wouldn’t want to see what they made me wear back in my day.”</p><p class="p1">He closes the door and moves to the bright red sofa in the corner of the room.</p><p class="p1">“This is the first time the whole Panem is going to see you,” he says slowly. “Their first impression of you. Only now, it’s really beginning.”</p><p class="p1">“Any advice?” Denis asks.</p><p class="p1">“A strategy, rather…” Vasek says and looks around, like he wants to make sure they are alone. “Not just for now. For the arena as well… and perhaps beyond.”</p><p class="p1">“What beyond?” Denis asks, but when he sees Vasek’s look, he gives him an apologetic smile. “What’s the strategy? Grin like an idiot? Tell a sappy childhood story?”</p><p class="p1">Vasek shakes his head. “You’re not Genie,” he says. “You’re not playing for sponsors. We both know that we’ll have to make do without them.”</p><p class="p1">“So?”</p><p class="p1">Vasek takes a deep breath. He’s not entirely sure about this, but it’s the only thing he can think of that may give the boy at least a fighting chance. “Make yourself unlikable.”</p><p class="p1">Denis frowns. “How is that going to help me?”</p><p class="p1">“A lot.”</p><p class="p1">Denis looks out of the window. There are so many lights in the city that it looks like it’s shimmering. Like fireflies in the woods at the edge of their district.</p><p class="p1">“If I do this… I mean… I’m okay with the whole world seeing me like this, but… not you.”</p><p class="p1">Vasek takes a deep breath, sensing that this is again going the way he’s dreading.</p><p class="p1">Denis turns to him and looks him in the eyes. “I want a safety catch. Something I can do to let you know that I’m acting. Just you.”</p><p class="p1">Vasek nods slowly. “Fine.” He reaches up and tucks Denis’ hair neatly behind his ears. “Like this. I’ll know.”</p><p class="p1">It’s an innocent gesture, but telling, since normally, Denis just runs a hand through his hair and throws it back.</p><p class="p1">That he has noticed that detail scares Vasek as well.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">~ ~ ~</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The interviews are the first time Vasek really pays attention to the other tributes. Before, he’s gotten just a glimpse of their appearance. Now he also gets a glimpse of their strategies.</p><p class="p1">The tributes from District One, Taylor and Sophia, are both charming and lethal, like someone’s taken them straight out of District One’s factory of Careers, brand new and shiny. From District Two, Nick and Ashleigh are a bit too rough at the edges to be charming and darlings of the audience, but brute strength and natural killer instinct make up for it. District Three’s got a bit younger tributes, but since Three usually uses brains more than weapons, it doesn’t really matter. In District Four, the forces are a bit unbalanced, with the girl, Maria, being actually a volunteer, while Jannik is even younger than Denis, and looks like he wouldn’t kill a fly. The emerald green fabric of the jacket the stylists have made him wear reflects on his face, giving him an almost sickly appearance.</p><p class="p1">Being one of the last districts may be perceived as a disadvantage, with the audience’s attention span being rather short and their interest going gown from District Four onward. For Vasek, it’s actually an advantage. Genie does as well as she can possibly do, being from Nine. He thinks that there will be a sponsor or two for her, maybe not rich enough to get anything too expensive, but some matches or a bread bun can sometimes be the difference between life and death.</p><p class="p1">Then it’s Denis’ turn. He sits in the chair, puts his hands in his lap, and stays completely silent, his expression so blank it almost dulls all the gold that he’s wearing.</p><p class="p1">The host looks like he doesn’t know where to begin. There’s nothing to read out of Denis’ face. “So… how do you find the Capitol so far?” he asks then, a safe question to start with.</p><p class="p1">Denis shrugs. “Yeah, it was nice to see it once. Not like I’ll ever come back.”</p><p class="p1">The host laughs dismissively, like he’s saying complete nonsense. “Oh, but you could. The only thing you need to do is…”</p><p class="p1">“To win,” Denis nods.</p><p class="p1">“Exactly!” the host says excitedly, almost like he’s trying to infect him with his enthusiasm, like he desperately needs the boy to show at least a sign of a sparkle. “Isn’t that what you’re here for?”</p><p class="p1">Denis’ eyes find Vasek in the audience, and then he carefully tucks his hair behind his ears. Vasek nods almost imperceptibly.</p><p class="p1">“Not really,” he says. “I’m here because I was reaped. That’s about it.”</p><p class="p1">The host pauses for a while, because it’s probably the first time he hears someone say that they don’t want to win. Vasek would laugh, if it didn’t ruin everything. Instead, he pretends to sigh, just in case the cameras are on him.</p><p class="p1">“Well, but you do have a chance, as everyone here does,” the host says then, trying to bring back the atmosphere of excitement and cheerfulness. “What are your strengths?”</p><p class="p1">“Well, I know a lot about nature,” Denis says like he’s trying to come up with an answer really hard. “But pretty much anyone from my district does. It doesn’t make me special.”</p><p class="p1">The host looks into the audience, almost like he’s looking for help. Vasek can feel it around him, it’s got exactly the effect they wanted. Everyone in the audience is bored to death.</p><p class="p1">“It’s been ten years since your district last had a victor,” the host says and leans closer to Denis. He even attempts to place a hand over his, but Denis moves it away quickly.</p><p class="p1">It actually causes a wave of whispering and astonished sighs in the audience. Being touched by everyone’s favorite person is probably considered a privilege in the Capitol. It seems like refusing it automatically classifies Denis as rude and stupid.</p><p class="p1">The host tries to laugh it off and continues his question. “I’m sure they would be happy to welcome you back as one.”</p><p class="p1">Denis shakes his head slightly. “No one back in Nine cares about me,” he says, and raises his hand to tuck the hair behind his ears, but then lets it fall back. “Absolutely no one.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">~ ~ ~</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Vasek takes a deep breath and opens the door leading to the roof.</p><p class="p1">Of course, he’s there, sitting on the ground, playing with the pendant. He’s taken off the clothes they made him wear for the interview, and changed them for simple pants and a velvet hoodie.</p><p class="p1">“How did I do?” he asks quietly, not looking at Vasek at all.</p><p class="p1">“Amazing,” Vasek says. “At times, I wanted to kill you.”</p><p class="p1">Denis laughs dryly. “Sorry, but there’s twenty-three people in front of you in the queue.”</p><p class="p1">“Well, I’m not willing to let that happen,” Vasek smirks and sits down. “But I need you to understand one thing first. That being from Nine isn’t good in the arena, but what nobody’s realized yet is that we have a certain advantage outside of it.”</p><p class="p1">Denis looks at him curiously. “Why?”</p><p class="p1">“What is in the Panem flag?”</p><p class="p1">Denis frowns. “An eagle… with arrows.”</p><p class="p1">Vasek nods. “But what’s surrounding the eagle?”</p><p class="p1">“Crops.”</p><p class="p1">Vasek reaches for the clasp of his necklace and undoes it carefully. Then he hands it to Denis. It’s a pendant with words engraved on it, words so old no one remembers where they come from. But they sound like they were written about their very district.</p><p class="p1">“As long as the earth endures, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night will never cease,” Denis reads quietly and looks at him.</p><p class="p1">“We are Panem’s bread,” Vasek says. “Weaponry, jewelry, textile, transportation… you can move all those to any district. But you cannot move our fields, you cannot move Eleven’s orchards, you cannot move Twelve’s coal and you cannot move Four’s lakes. Some districts can perhaps get away with more than some other districts, and those districts know it. And it’s time they stuck together.”</p><p class="p1">“Eleven, Twelve, Four,” Denis repeats. “Is that what you’re telling me?”</p><p class="p1">Vasek nods. “They’ll know. Their mentors agreed,” he says.</p><p class="p1">Denis turns the pendant in his fingers. “Can I have it?” he asks.</p><p class="p1">“What?”</p><p class="p1">“Can I have it as my token?”</p><p class="p1">Vasek feels his mouth go dry. It’s an innocent request, but somehow, it feels like something heavy’s just been placed on his chest.</p><p class="p1">“I thought you already had one,” he says, motioning towards the necklace on the ground.</p><p class="p1">Something flashes in Denis’ eyes, briefly, a faint shadow of sadness. Then he looks at Vasek again, and suddenly it’s gone again.</p><p class="p1">“But I want yours.”</p><p class="p1">Vasek is hyperaware of how close they are, and all the defense mechanisms in his body are screaming at him to jump up and leave while he still can. Before he gets too attached. But that small part of him that is still thinking rationally is telling him that if this is the only thing that keeps the fire inside of Denis burning, then it’s worth it. It’s worth the chance. He himself be damned.</p><p class="p1">“Only if you promise to bring it back,” he hears himself say.</p><p class="p1">Denis lowers his eyes and laughs humorlessly, like he’s just swallowed Vasek’s bait and still couldn’t believe it. “Okay,” he says then and looks at him again. “I promise.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">~ ~ ~</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The first day of the Games is always the worst. For obvious reasons. Usually it all ends on that day for Vasek.</p><p class="p1">Nine years. Eighteen tributes. Eighteen innocent children that he said goodbye to here, and never saw them again, except on the screen, dying. And for all of them, he was the last piece of home, the last hope they clung onto, and he failed them every time.</p><p class="p1">“Stick to the plan,” he says. “And remember what you’ve promised me.”</p><p class="p1">Denis nods and tucks Vasek’s pendant under his shirt carefully.</p><p class="p1">Vasek stands still for a while. Then he does something he’s never done before. He makes a quick step and presses his lips against Denis’ forehead. </p><p class="p1">“I’ve seen you being emotional,” Denis smiles. “Now I can truly die in peace.”</p><p class="p1">Vasek rolls his eyes, then grabs him by his shoulders and pulls him closer.</p><p class="p1">“Have you realized it yet?” he asks.</p><p class="p1">“What?”</p><p class="p1">“That I’ve picked you,” Vasek whispers.</p><p class="p1">Denis raises his eyes to him like he perhaps expected Vasek to say something else, but this is as good as it gets, and he’s willing to take it.</p><p class="p1">“No,” he says then and smiles, and for a moment the fear is almost gone from his eyes. “I’ve picked you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">~ ~ ~</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">There’s an odd hour between saying goodbye and the countdown. Their floor is suddenly unnaturally still and quiet, with the stylists and the escort gone. It’s just him now, and he’s never felt this lonely in his life.</p><p class="p1">On sudden impulse, he opens the door to what used to be Denis’ room, and walks in. The room is clean and empty, like no one’s ever stayed in it, no traces left.</p><p class="p1">Almost.</p><p class="p1">On the table, there lies the familiar wooden pendant, with a paper card left next to it.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Give it back to Félix. Tell him I’m not mad at him.</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">///</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It’s impossible to know what the arena will look like before they actually see it, and Denis prefers not to guess. He keeps his eyes closed until he feels the warm air on his skin. Then he slowly opens them and blinks into the light.</p><p class="p1">It looks a lot like Nine.</p><p class="p1">There are no fields, at least not around him, but other than that, it looks familiar. There are trees and high grass, and hills in the distance. His heart slows down a bit. He had been fearing some setting that would be foreign and unnatural, like some he remembers from the past years. Underground tunnels, ruins of a city, abandoned amusement park. This is familiar, but the danger lies in the false sense of safety. He has to keep in mind that maybe things here don’t work the way they should.</p><p class="p1">A few platforms from him, he can see Genie. The worse thing is that he’s got the Careers on both sides of him, which means that the way to the supplies piled up in the middle is through them.</p><p class="p1">There’s no way in hell he’s taking that way.</p><p class="p1">When the countdown ends and everyone heads towards the middle, he jumps off the platform and runs the other way. He doesn’t know what he would do with the weapons anyway.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">~ ~ ~</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The further he gets, the more he’s starting to understand what the main danger lies in. He’s never seen as many poisonous things in one place. Everything they warned the kids about in their district, it’s here.</p><p class="p1">And each of the dangerous things has its harmless twin.</p><p class="p1">It’s clear that not all deaths will be amusing and thrilling battles.</p><p class="p1">Knowing that there was a possibility of an alliance was reassuring, until it all started and now he has no idea of where he is, and where to look for the other tributes. If they are still alive. He didn’t really count the cannons, but there were some. Maybe at the end of the day, he will have no one to form an alliance with.</p><p class="p1">He climbs on top of a hill, just to get a look around and figure out if there’s any structure to the landscape, or if it’s random and unpredictable. The moment he looks down, he can see a river. Which is good news, in the logic of the Games.</p><p class="p1">He runs down the hill, through bushes and trees, and kneels down in the soft grass of the river bank, testing the water carefully with his fingertips and then splashing it in his face.</p><p class="p1">A moment later, he’s got the blade of a knife to his throat, and the boy from Two clacks his tongue mockingly at him, with the rest of the pack looking on in amusement. There’s five of them, but he can only remember Nick and Taylor. He can’t quite tell the girls apart now. Not like it matters.</p><p class="p1">He tries to stay as still as possible and force his racing mind to think.</p><p class="p1">“Wait, wait… please,” he whispers.</p><p class="p1">Nick gives him an amused smirk and tilts the knife. “For what?”</p><p class="p1">Denis looks at the makeshift bundle one of the girls is holding. It’s full of fruit.</p><p class="p1">“Me telling you that if you eat that, you’ll be dead in five minutes,” he says.</p><p class="p1">Nick laughs. “Are you trying to tell me that an apple will kill me?”</p><p class="p1">“An apple won’t. But these are not apples.”</p><p class="p1">Nick’s eyes dart to the fruit, and then back to his face. He chuckles. “Sure.”</p><p class="p1">“Nick, wait!” Taylor says suddenly and grabs his wrist. The blade slips, leaving a superficial cut. “What if he’s right?”</p><p class="p1">Nick shoots a furious glance at him, but then realizes that the rest of the group is already swayed as well.</p><p class="p1">“Fine, then let’s not eat it, problem solved!” he barks. “Now let go of me.”</p><p class="p1">“The problem is that we don’t know what we <em>can</em> eat,” Taylor says. “If apples aren’t apples… then how do you know anything that looks edible to us isn’t poison? I can only tell things apart by the labels at the market.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, how long can we last without safe food?” one of the girls says. “Can’t rely on sponsors. If we get something from them, it better be something more useful than food.”</p><p class="p1">“Exactly. Nine knows what is what. Why not keep him around for now?” Taylor says.</p><p class="p1">There’s the unspoken “we can always kill him later” hanging in the air, but Denis doesn’t care. Nick hesitates for a while, but then he pulls back the knife and lets go of him.</p><p class="p1">“Get up!” he barks. “And better make yourself useful.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">~ ~ ~ </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They decide to stay close to the river for the night. There’s a good chance of other tributes coming near it to look for water, and walking into the trap themselves, just like Denis did.</p><p class="p1">The pack is just what everyone’s expected. There’s Nick and Ashleigh from Two, Taylor and Sophia from One, and the girl from Four.</p><p class="p1">“Are you guys from Four not sticking together?” Denis asks her, trying to sound just curious. Because Vasek said Four, but he probably didn’t mean her.</p><p class="p1">She looks at him and chuckles. “Have you seen him? He’s a fucking baby. He’s more of a baby than you, actually. You at least know stuff… he’s just useless.”</p><p class="p1">Denis smiles and throws another branch onto the fire. They are not afraid to make one. On the contrary. If it lures people in, even better.</p><p class="p1">“The first year I remember that our district didn’t have a male volunteer,” she says and shakes her head. “Shame. I have to make up for it.”</p><p class="p1">“You sure this is edible?” Ashleigh asks, eyeing the pile of plants and vegetables mistrustfully.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, this is safe,” Denis says, tearing off a piece of the plant and chewing on it. “It’s chicory. The roots can be boiled and they don’t even taste that bad.”</p><p class="p1">Ashleigh makes a face. “Didn’t think I would ever have to eat roots,” she says. “But it seems like there are no damn animals here. Which could be a good thing, but at the same time… less food.”</p><p class="p1">“Well, are you going to cook the roots or what?” Taylor asks.</p><p class="p1">Denis looks around and shrugs. “I have nothing to peel them with,” he says.</p><p class="p1">Taylor reaches over him and grabs a knife off the pile of supplies, handing it to him.</p><p class="p1">“Hey! That’s my knife!” Nick shouts at him.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, you want to eat or not?” Taylor asks.</p><p class="p1">Nick mumbles something, but leaves them alone. Taylor smiles a little and ever winks at Denis, like he enjoys making Nick mad. Denis returns the smile and looks at the knife in his hand, gripping the handle tightly for a moment. Then he loosens the grip and starts to peel the roots.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">~ ~ ~</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They watch the faces in the sky carefully. Denis isn’t counting, he focuses on the faces instead. The boy from Twelve and the girl from Eleven are among them. So much for his alliance.</p><p class="p1">“Could be better,” Nick muses, playing with the knife he snatched from Denis as soon as he was done cutting the roots.</p><p class="p1">“I’m glad to have those from Three out of the way,” Sophia says. “You never know what weird tricks they’re plotting.”</p><p class="p1">“What about that girl from your district?” Nick asks Denis. “Have any idea where she is?”</p><p class="p1">“No,” Denis says. “Why would I?”</p><p class="p1">“Well, I mean… if she’s not hiding somewhere, waiting for you to come back,” Nick raises his brows, shuffling closer, the knife still in his hand. “In that case, you should spill it. Better her than you, right?”</p><p class="p1">“She’s not! I haven’t seen her since the beginning, I swear!”</p><p class="p1">“Nick,” Taylor says, his voice low and calm, but still there is an underlying warning.</p><p class="p1">“I’m just checking the facts,” Nick says. “If Nine wants to be friends with us, he can’t be friends with her.”</p><p class="p1">Denis tucks his hair behind his ears and looks at him. “I don’t give a damn about her,” he says. “As you said. Better her than me.”</p><p class="p1">Nick narrows his eyes and then smirks. “Fine, I’ll believe you,” he says.</p><p class="p1">Maria, the girl from Four, chuckles amusedly, drawing Nick’s attention to her.</p><p class="p1">“What about that boy from yours?” he asks.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, he’s probably hiding somewhere and crying,” she makes a face. “Leave me alone.”</p><p class="p1">Ashleigh takes the first watch. The rest of them lie down by the fire, tucked in sleeping bags they most likely got from the supplies at the cornucopia, the very supplies Denis refused to even look at. As a result, he’s left with nothing but the jacket that barely protects him from the night dew, but not from cold.</p><p class="p1">He doesn’t sleep, and the cold is not the only reason. He just can’t force his mind to relax around these people. He’s not sure if it would have been different if he were alone, but the presence of other people that should be reassuring under other circumstances is deeply unsettling, and he’s afraid to even close his eyes.</p><p class="p1">He knows that he’s not a part of the group. He’s a mere hostage. But even so, he feels like Nick doesn’t trust him a single bit. Which is probably what makes him a clear favorite in the Games. Not trusting anyone, no matter how weak or dumb they look and act, is the best approach.</p><p class="p1">On the contrary, despite being from a career district, Taylor completely falls for it. The doe eyes, being clueless and docile and just relying on them… it touches some protective string deep inside of him. Denis would bet his life on him having at least one brother.</p><p class="p1">Ashleigh’s watch ends and she pokes Taylor with the blunt end of her spear to wake him up. Taylor gets up and heads to the fire. On the way, he stops next to Denis and looks at him.</p><p class="p1">“Take this,” he says then and hands him his sleeping bag. “I don’t need it now.”</p><p class="p1">“Are you sure?” Denis asks.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah. It’s my turn for the watch now, so… why should it lay here unused?”</p><p class="p1">Denis smiles up at him gratefully. “Thanks.”</p><p class="p1">Taylor nods and takes his place by the fire. Denis slips inside the sleeping bag that is still retaining remnants of Taylor’s warmth. He reaches under his shirt, wraps his fingers around Vasek’s necklace, and finally closes his eyes.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">~ ~ ~</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They wake up with the first light, cold and hungry. Nick decides to move away from their camp, since he figures that their presence is mainly scaring the other tributes and they should be more inconspicuous.</p><p class="p1">The further they go, the more edible things Denis can see around. He finds some nuts and wild potatoes, and even some cattail, which can be technically made into bread. He decides to pick some of it and try to make it into something edible later. He bends over to collect it and in that moment, someone jumps on his back.</p><p class="p1">The weight makes him fall forward. He cuts his hand on a sharp piece of rock, but that is his smallest concern. Still, it’s what gives him back his voice after the shock had snatched it from him. A moment later, the tribute’s body lifts off him, and when he blinks again, he’s lying in the grass with his throat slashed. The cannon sounds almost immediately.</p><p class="p1">“You okay, Nine?” Taylor asks.</p><p class="p1">Denis nods. Taylor holds out his hand and waits for him to take it.</p><p class="p1">“Thanks,” Denis mumbles.</p><p class="p1">Sophia and Maria appear in the next moment, glancing at the body in the grass. There is no emotion in their eyes at all.</p><p class="p1">“What happened?” Sophia asks, slinging her bow back over her shoulder when she realizes that there is no immediate threat.</p><p class="p1">“Nine just wandered off a little bit,” Taylor smiles. “And this one decided to take advantage of it.”</p><p class="p1">Ashleigh checks the body to see if there’s anything valuable for them. Her moves are completely detached and calculated. When she finds nothing, she straightens up again.</p><p class="p1">“Let’s go,” she says. “I bet there are more hiding around.”</p><p class="p1">Denis follows them obediently, but he feels like he’s in a dream. None of this seems to be real.</p><p class="p1">“You’re bleeding,” Taylor says suddenly, and Denis realizes that he’s been walking next to him all the time.</p><p class="p1">“It’s nothing,” Denis mumbles. “I’ll find something for it. Witch hazel or something.”</p><p class="p1">Taylor laughs shortly. “You’re weird,” he says. “You’re really weird, all of you from… you know, the outer districts. We’re like… let’s take a pill or some morphine. You take some herbs and probably chant something, and you’re good.”</p><p class="p1">“We don’t chant anything,” Denis says.</p><p class="p1">Taylor just smiles. “Well, if you’re going to find something, find it quickly,” he says. “It doesn’t look like it’s going to stop on its own.”</p><p class="p1">Denis nods, and then realizes that he doesn’t have to look for anything. He’s already got it. He pulls out the cattail he had picked earlier, and puts some of the pollen on the wound.</p><p class="p1">“Here,” Taylor says, handing him a piece of cloth in which Denis recognizes the silvery fabric of the small parachutes that transport sponsors’ gifts to the arena. “Do you need help?”</p><p class="p1">Denis nods and holds his hand up to him. Taylor wraps the fabric around his palm a bit clumsily, and ties it firmly.</p><p class="p1">“Thank you,” Denis says. “What did you get?”</p><p class="p1">Taylor frowns. “What?”</p><p class="p1">“From the sponsors,” Denis says.</p><p class="p1">“Oh… a fire starter,” Taylor smiles. “You could probably start a fire without it.”</p><p class="p1">“Maybe,” Denis shrugs. “I’ve never really tried.”</p><p class="p1">“Taylor!” Sophia calls from the front. “If you’re done fretting over Nine, we could use your help here!”</p><p class="p1">Taylor gives Denis an awkward smile and runs to her.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">~ ~ ~</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The symbiosis is nearly perfect. They hunt tributes down and kill them, and laugh about it. Denis cooks them meals and collects wood, and acts like he’s grateful to be still alive. Keeping up the act is ridiculously easy.</p><p class="p1">Until one day, they come across Genie.</p><p class="p1">When she sees them, she jumps up, pulls herself up on the lowest branch, out of their reach, and climbs on the tree. Sophia tries to climb up after her, but Taylor pulls her back.</p><p class="p1">“Let’s set camp here,” he says. “She has to get down eventually.”</p><p class="p1">“I got a better idea,” Nick smirks. “Collect some wood around and bring it here.”</p><p class="p1">“What do you want to do?” Ashleigh asks.</p><p class="p1">“I’m thinking a nice bonfire,” Nick grins. “We’ll see how long before the bird gets roasted.”</p><p class="p1">Ashleigh laughs and throws an arm around Sophia's shoulders as they walk away to look for fallen branches. Denis looks at Nick apprehensively.</p><p class="p1">“Don’t you want me to wait here?” he asks.</p><p class="p1">Nick grabs the front of his jacket and slams him against the trunk. “You think I’m stupid?”</p><p class="p1">Denis shakes his head.</p><p class="p1">“Fine. So do what you’re told, before I send you back to Nine together!”</p><p class="p1">Denis nods and walks a few steps away from the tree. Then he turns around to check that Nick is looking the other way.</p><p class="p1">He motions towards the branches. Genie looks at the berries growing on them, and nods.</p><p class="p1">Then she picks a handful of them and eats them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">~ ~ ~</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They pile up the branches and brushwood around the tree, and Taylor lends his fire starter to Nick, who lights a thicker branch on fire. Denis looks up in the tree. Genie sits wedged between two branches, apparently barely conscious at this point. The careers are apparently too caught up in their own jokes to even notice.</p><p class="p1">“Want to say goodbye to your friend?” Nick asks, turning to Denis.</p><p class="p1">Denis shakes his head without a word.</p><p class="p1">“Oh, and I thought you were the sentimental type,” Nick chuckles. “You two were pretty inseparable in the training center, so-“</p><p class="p1">He doesn’t get to finish his outrageous thought, because in that moment, Denis pushes his hair behind his ears, rips the torch out of his hand, and throws it on the brushwood.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">~ ~ ~</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">As they return to the river, a little further down the stream, Denis wanders off to where some smaller rocks create at least some barrier between him and the rest of the group. He crouches by the water, looking at the fake waves. It’s like only now, it’s starting to feel real. Only now he realizes that he can’t just talk himself out of everything.</p><p class="p1">If he wants to do something, he has to do it before the Careers split. Before there are too little other tributes to hunt down and kill. Before it’s safe for them to kill him.</p><p class="p1">He splashes the cold water in his face.</p><p class="p1">And then he sees it. The best weapon he could come across.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">~ ~ ~</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He sits away from the rest of them and looks at the water while tearing off pieces of the cattail bread he’s made earlier. Taylor glances at him from time to time, but doesn’t say anything. Out of them all, he’s maybe the only one who saw through his act and realized that he actually <em>did</em> give a damn about Genie.</p><p class="p1">“I’d die for some meat,” Nick sighs, sniffing the stew. “Definitely better than this… what the hell is this?”</p><p class="p1">“Parsley,” Denis says, biting into the cattail bread.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, it’s disgusting.”</p><p class="p1">“I didn’t find anything better,” Denis says quietly.</p><p class="p1">Nick makes a disgruntled noise and goes back to eating.</p><p class="p1">Mere minutes later, it starts.</p><p class="p1">Denis was told about how dangerous water hemlock was. That it could kill people in fifteen minutes. But he’s never seen it happen.</p><p class="p1">And it’s not a pretty sight.</p><p class="p1">His instincts are telling him to get as far away as possible, but he knows that he will need to pick up the supplies once they are… once it’s over.</p><p class="p1">He realizes too late that he should have run. When Taylor stumbles to him, grabs him by the front of his jacket and pulls him up.</p><p class="p1">“What… have you done?” he asks.</p><p class="p1">Denis just keeps looking at him. Taylor is shaking, but Denis can’t tell if it’s the poison, or just pure rage.</p><p class="p1">Then he hits him in the face.</p><p class="p1">Denis tries to steady himself, and his fingers touch something cold.</p><p class="p1">Nick’s knife, lying in the grass, next to the stone with the rests of the water hemlock.</p><p class="p1">He wraps his fingers around it tightly, almost like he only does it to cope with the pulsing pain in his face. Then, when Taylor lurches at him again, he gets up, and their bodies meet halfway. As the blade sinks in Taylor’s flesh, all Denis can think of is how smoothly and easily.</p><p class="p1">“I’m sorry,” he whispers.</p><p class="p1">Taylor makes a step back and for a moment, he just stands there, dazed. He lifts his hand to place it over the wound, but it never makes it there. Blood pours out like a giant red flower is blooming on his shirt, and then he just falls in the grass, never making a sound.</p><p class="p1">Denis drops the knife and stumbles back, feeling for anything solid. His hand finds the rough bark of a tree. He leans against it and throws up.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">~ ~ ~</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It takes him three days to find what remains of his intended alliance. It’s only Jannik from Four, Frances from Eleven, and the girl from Twelve whose name he doesn’t remember and she doesn’t deem it necessary to tell him. At that point, it’s almost too late for an alliance, but they still decide to stick together.</p><p class="p1">When he found them, he knew immediately that Maria had underestimated Jannik, or maybe he was a good actor. While she wrote him off as a useless child, he’d actually been leading this group, the alliance of underdogs, the whole time. And to a point, Denis feels like he doesn’t even have the right to join them now, because he didn’t contribute at all. If he doesn’t count ridding them of the careers, which he’s not willing to disclose.</p><p class="p1">Denis is mashing a plant he’s found near the lake where they’ve set camp with his knife. He doesn’t even know why. It’s almost like it keeps him sane. The knife was the only weapon he kept. He threw the rest into the river. He had no use for Taylor’s short sword, Ashleigh’s spear or Sophia’s bow and arrows when he couldn’t even shoot.</p><p class="p1">The anthem sounds and the pictures of the fallen tributes appear in the sky. They watch on in silence.</p><p class="p1">“Only two left, apart from us,” Jannik says quietly. “Six and Ten.”</p><p class="p1">“Still, how did all the careers die in one day? It doesn’t make sense,” the girl from Twelve says.</p><p class="p1">Denis glances up and then lowers his eyes again, staying quiet.</p><p class="p1">“Could be an accident,” Frances muses. “Something orchestrated by the Gamemakers… a flood, a fire… something like that.”</p><p class="p1">“Why would they kill the favorites, though?” Jannik asks.</p><p class="p1">There’s a moment of silence, and Denis realizes that they are waiting for his insight. He pretends not to have noticed, and focuses on unfolding his sleeping bag instead.</p><p class="p1">He sleeps with one hand curled around Vasek’s necklace, the other around the handle of his knife.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">~ ~ ~</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They wake up to the sound of a cannon. For a while, they just look at each other, sleepy and confused, like they want to make sure it wasn’t one of them.</p><p class="p1">“That makes one… and us,” Frances says slowly.</p><p class="p1">“So we should set out to find that one,” Jannik says.</p><p class="p1">Denis and the girl from Twelve don’t say anything, but when they look at each other, Denis knows that they are thinking the same thing. That this alliance has already expired. They shouldn’t be together at this point. They shouldn’t look for one person together because when that person is dead and they’re still together… it comes down to them, and by staying together, they are lowering their own chances.</p><p class="p1">Still, they say nothing. Somehow, breaking it now feels unsafe.</p><p class="p1">“I’ll get some water,” Denis says and grabs the bottle, walking towards the lake.</p><p class="p1">He barely dips in in the water when the cannon sounds again.</p><p class="p1">Something tells him to turn around. The moment he does, he sees the lifeless body of the girl from Twelve, lying in the grass, and Jannik’s spear piercing through Frances’ body. It clearly shows who was the quickest to gather their wits.</p><p class="p1">He knows that he should run. But then he realizes that it’s only the two of them left now. Running doesn’t solve anything. It has to end sometime.</p><p class="p1">And better sooner than later.</p><p class="p1">Jannik pulls the spear out of Frances’ body and throws it at him, but all he has to do is to duck. It’s clearly not Jannik’s weapon of choice, and it shows.</p><p class="p1">It’s Denis’ turn then, and he draws the knife, carefully circling around him before making a haphazard charge. But Jannik isn’t dazed and sick like Taylor was, and Denis is damn clumsy. The knife barely nicks Jannik’s arm.</p><p class="p1">It’s two children trying to kill each other, not really knowing how.</p><p class="p1">When Jannik throws himself at him and pushes him in the water, that’s when he realizes that he’s probably lost. This is Jannik’s realm, this is where he’s at ease.</p><p class="p1">Jannik jumps after him, but after the surface closes after him, it stays calm, like it’s never happened, like he’s just gone all of a sudden.</p><p class="p1">Until he appears right behind him and pulls him under.</p><p class="p1">He grips Denis’ wrist like he wants to wrestle the knife from him, but instead, he turns it against him and sinks it in his body, twice or thrice, he’s not even sure. It’s like he almost can’t feel it, either. He’s completely drained, and for a moment, he just wants it to end.</p><p class="p1">Only then, it occurs to him to actually drop the knife. He manages to push Jannik off him enough to get a breath before he gets pulled back under the surface.</p><p class="p1">Then, for some inexplicable reason, Jannik lets go of him.</p><p class="p1">Denis drags himself up on the rocks, using the last bits of strength he has left. When he looks back, he realizes that Jannik is struggling to keep himself above the water. His moves are strangely erratic and jerky, and Denis’ mind suddenly cannot process it. Jannik can swim. This shouldn’t be happening.</p><p class="p1">In that moment, he wises up to the fact that it’s no longer about who wins, but about who hangs on longer. Suddenly, he can almost hear Vasek’s voice. <em>I didn’t do much. Held on long enough, that was pretty much about it.</em></p><p class="p1">Something in him wants to laugh. The other part of him doesn’t really care.</p><p class="p1">The rocks are warm, like sun has been warming them all day. He lays his head on his forearms, and suddenly he feels strangely at peace.</p><p class="p1">As the world fades into black, he thinks that he hears the sound of the cannon in the distance.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">///</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Since they let him in the cold room with fluorescent lights, Vasek nearly hasn’t moved from the spot.</p><p class="p1">Denis looks strangely peaceful in the drug induced sleep. Vasek didn’t get such luxury back in his day. The reality of everything hit him front on. He didn’t even have time to come to terms with everything that happened in the arena, and they made him relive it once again.</p><p class="p1">He’s managed to push the memories to the back of his mind over the years. But now, sitting in the uncomfortable chair, they come back, perhaps because there’s nowhere to run from them here. He has to let them torture him until exhaustion takes mercy on him and his mind gets too tired.</p><p class="p1">He wakes up from the half-sleep when Denis makes a pained sound.</p><p class="p1">Vasek swiftly moves from the chair to the edge of the bed. Denis’ eyelids move rapidly, and then he opens his eyes. At first just for a moment, but then they open wide and search the place around him, until they focus on Vasek’s face.</p><p class="p1">Somehow, Vasek finds it in himself to smile.</p><p class="p1">Denis closes his eyes again and swallows hard before he manages to speak. “How long…”</p><p class="p1">“It’s been four days,” Vasek says.</p><p class="p1">“I thought… I heard the cannon as I was…”</p><p class="p1">Vasek nods slowly. “He drowned before you could bleed out… and you were trying really hard.”</p><p class="p1">Denis gives him a weak smile. “But… how? He could swim, he was from Four.”</p><p class="p1">“Your knife. You had dipped it in poison, remember? He was already doomed when you got in the water. Then the poison washed off before he stabbed you. You were lucky.”</p><p class="p1">For some reason, he doesn’t immediately regret the last sentence. He can’t imagine he would ever say this before, but now he even believes it himself.</p><p class="p1">He’s slowly coming to terms with this being over, with finally being allowed to get attached, to feel something. And it scares him almost more than when he couldn’t.</p><p class="p1">Denis lifts his hand slowly and grips Vasek’s pendant that is still hanging around his neck, trying to pull it off. Vasek places a hand on top of his to stop him.</p><p class="p1">“Keep it,” he says.</p><p class="p1">He doesn’t pull his hand back immediately, keeping it on top of Denis’ and squeezing lightly. Denis lets out a deep breath and lets his body melt back into the pillows.</p><p class="p1">“One has to almost die to get a bit of affection from you, that’s sad,” he mumbles.</p><p class="p1">Vasek chuckles. “Sorry,” he says. “I’m not very affectionate, really.”</p><p class="p1">“You didn’t believe I’d come back,” Denis says, almost reproachfully. “That’s why you held back.”</p><p class="p1">“That wasn’t the only reason,” Vasek says, and maybe he’s not lying. It was the biggest reason. But perhaps indeed not the only one.</p><p class="p1">He reaches in his pockets and pulls out the wooden pendant, placing it on the crisp white sheet.</p><p class="p1">“Here,” he says. “You can deliver the message yourself.”</p><p class="p1">Denis nods and looks at the pendant, but he doesn’t even touch it. “You know why I wanted you to tell him I wasn’t mad at him?”</p><p class="p1">Vasek shakes his head.</p><p class="p1">“I was terrified of the Games. Ever since I was a kid. That’s maybe why I don’t remember you. I’ve never really wanted to watch,” he says. “The night before the Reaping, I couldn’t sleep. I went over to Félix, and we stayed up all night. And he told me…”</p><p class="p1">He trails off and closes his eyes. A single tear slips from underneath his eyelids and runs down his temple.</p><p class="p1">“He told me that if it would be me, he would have volunteered for me,” Denis says. “And I was stupid enough to believe him.”</p><p class="p1">Vasek sighs and places his hand on top of his again.</p><p class="p1">“I was really mad at first,” Denis says. “But then I realized… I couldn’t really blame him. Who would have ever done it?”</p><p class="p1">“You’re not stupid,” Vasek says quietly. “It’s not that you shouldn’t have believed him. He shouldn’t have promised something if he wasn’t sure that he’d keep the promise.”</p><p class="p1">“But I wasn’t sure either,” Denis whispers. “When I promised you I’d bring the necklace back.”</p><p class="p1">“But you did,” Vasek says. “And even if you… if the odds weren’t in your favor, you still did everything to keep that promise. And that’s what makes the difference.”</p><p class="p1">Denis smiles a little. Vasek keeps looking at him like he’s waiting for something. He looks so unaffected, so <em>clean</em>, like nothing that happened there could take from his innocence. And Vasek realizes that he’s fearing the moment the thing lurking in the shadows will come for him.</p><p class="p1">“You should get some more sleep,” he says, almost like he wants to make sure it will not happen now. Not yet.</p><p class="p1">“Can I get some of the good stuff again?” Denis asks, looking at the now empty IV. “I dreamed of you, that was nice.”</p><p class="p1">“I’m sure you can dream about me without it,” Vasek says. He knows how the Capitol’s drugs work, and that the sooner he gets off, the better.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, I probably can,” Denis smiles. “But you’re not going anywhere, are you?”</p><p class="p1">Truth is that Vasek should go and get some sleep, or just lie down somewhere to relieve his back that is on fire from the hard chair. And calm his mind to be able to think clearly, because they will both need it.</p><p class="p1">“No,” he says instead. “I’m not going anywhere.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">~ ~ ~</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The applause is quite lukewarm. The Capitol gets a victor they didn’t want.</p><p class="p1">People here like epic battles and bloodbaths and escalated emotions. This style doesn’t sit well with the Capitol folk, and Vasek is quite sure that poisonous plants won’t appear in the arena for quite some time now.</p><p class="p1">All in all, if they didn’t like Denis before the Games, now they like him even less. After all, most people here lost their favorites - and their bets - in one day, because a boy from Nine made a stew that the perfectly trained tributes were stupid enough to eat. And after that, they turned their attention to Jannik, because a sweet child turning into a literal backstabber was at least interesting to watch. And it all came down to an accidental scratch with a poisoned knife, and their last hope drowned like a rat. It’s clear that they will want to forget about this year, and this boy, as soon as possible. Maybe, in the light of the upcoming Quarter Quell, they really will.</p><p class="p1">And that is the true victory.</p><p class="p1">Being forgotten is worth much more than the crown, a house in Victors' Village and free rations. It’s the true first prize.</p><p class="p1">Ten years ago, Vasek got a warmer welcome. He was the first ever victor from Nine, and he was clueless, naive and ingenuous. He was interesting for them for a little while, until they realized that what they saw was what they would get, and that what they saw was interesting only because he was trying too hard. Because he made the mistake he wasn’t willing to let Denis repeat.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">~ ~ ~</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When they get off the train, the whole district is there. For the amount of people, it’s almost too quiet, although it’s not a funeral this time. Still, it feels like there’s an abyss between them and the rest. Vasek knows this well. It’s almost like when he came back, he stopped being a Nine’s child. Because Nine’s children weren’t supposed to come back.</p><p class="p1">A bit to the side of the people from the merchant quarter, Vasek spots Félix, standing alone and looking up at the platform, no trace of a smile on his face. Denis sees him too. And then he turns to Vasek, like he wants to ask him what to do, before realizing that this is not the arena. There’s no strategy. There’s nothing Vasek can do.</p><p class="p1">Vasek looks down at Denis’ hand. The wooden pendant is hanging down from the cord wrapped around his fingers, like one of the lifeless bodies being lifted from the arena.</p><p class="p1">“Go,” he says.</p><p class="p1">Denis nods slightly and steps off the platform. Vasek lingers for a while. He knows that people are talking to him and he is answering, but a second later he doesn’t remember the words. He looks back one last time, but the crowd is mingling too much for him to actually see Denis.</p><p class="p1">He leaves the station without anyone actually stopping him, escaping to the silence of the Victors’ Village. His house is as unwelcoming as always, the furniture impersonal and absurdly ornate for a house standing in the middle of fields and grain silos. He opens the windows to let fresh air in. It smells of sweet corn and rain.</p><p class="p1">It’s getting dark when he hears the front door open. He doesn’t move from the spot. There’s nothing left that he could fear.</p><p class="p1">Denis plops down on the sofa next to him, and stares at the same spot on the wall that Vasek has been hypnotizing for hours.</p><p class="p1">“I don’t know what to do now,” he says quietly.</p><p class="p1">Vasek nods calmly. “Yeah.”</p><p class="p1">“It’s like… I thought it was going to be like before, and now… it’s not. It’s like I can’t go back.”</p><p class="p1">“It’s never going to be like before. You played by the rules. You can’t go back.”</p><p class="p1">There’s silence for a long time, and it’s so loud that when the rain finally starts hitting the windowsill, it almost makes Vasek sigh with relief. Denis kicks off his shoes and pulls his feet back on the sofa, tucking himself into Vasek’s side. Vasek feels his own body tense up, like he suddenly can’t move, and so he doesn’t. Not until he hears Denis’ breath even out, and feels his body lie heavy against him. Then he carefully lowers him down on the sofa and throws a blanket over him.</p><p class="p1">He walks over to the window and closes it quietly. Sun is setting above District Nine, undisturbed by any games. As long as the earth endures.</p><p class="p2"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There might be yet another spin-off, because I'm a sucker for the Hunger Games setting and I have images in my head that don't want to go away. I'm not promising anything, though.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>